Maximum Rush (Tangled Desires Book 4)

by Murphy,Misti

  Not the captivating woman in front of me, not any girl. And I need her to remember that. Sure, I can have my moments where things aren’t so cut and dry, but I don’t want her thinking anything will change between us. When our time is done, I’ll put her on a plane and send her home. That’ll be it. It’s not like I’ll be thinking of her when she’s gone.

  Only occasionally, as that crazy girl who I spent a fun couple of months with. Perhaps one of the best springs of my life. The thought makes me smile as I whisper my mouth up the side of her neck and skim my hands to her tits. Her chest rises, pushing them into my touch. Her nipples are like marbles under my palms. “And as for your inexperience, I don’t care what you choose to do with your body. You’re the only one who can decide what you want, but I do wish you had been a little more forthcoming. I would have been easier on you.”

  “Easier?”

  I sweep my hand down between her legs to rub her clit. “More gentle.”

  “It didn’t hurt. I thought it would, that it was supposed to, but it didn’t.” Her voice gets husky as she leans into me and spreads her legs a little more so I can slide my finger into her. “It felt uncomfortable at first, but then it felt good. The same way you’re making me feel good now.”

  Stroking her slowly, I circle her clit and then push one finger and then two into her over and over while I suck droplets of water from her shoulder and neck. Her hips buck to my hand, her ass grinding against my hardness. Every muscle in my body is taut, strained tight with how easy it would be to adjust the angle and slide into her. “You want to cum, little nun?”

  “Yes.” She whimpers, twisting out of my grip to grasp my head and kiss me.

  With that, I lose any thoughts of taking it slow. Picking her up, we crash against the shower wall. It rattles from the impact, but I’m already carrying her out of the shower and setting her on the counter while I unroll a condom over my erection.

  Our mouths meld together hungrily as I push into her, and her legs tighten around my waist. There’s water everywhere, our bodies moving slickly together as I plunge into her. The tiles at my feet are almost hazardous from the puddle accumulating, but neither of us stops.

  Getting my hand between us, I rub her clit as I take her hard. She moans into me, as I spur her on. “I want you to cum. Fast and hard just like I’m fucking you.”

  She squeals into my mouth, and then bites my lip. I can feel it swell almost immediately, but it’s nothing compared to the way she clenches my cock as she climaxes, her tight inner walls sucking my release from me. It takes a few moments before my brain triggers my hips to stop, to ease out of her and restart the shower so we can clean up.

  “Round two will be slower,” I tell her. “Once you’re ready. But in the meantime why don’t we find somewhere to eat?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Maxi

  I’m hanging out with Chelsea and Gem at this little café where they make a mean apple pie. Gem’s pouring over some details for hers and Tommy’s wedding, while Chelsea feeds Mia. I’m not sure when these women became my friends, but since Rush and I got back from the Vivaldi Valley, I’ve spent a fair bit of time with them. Mostly, to keep some rational distance between me and him.

  Something shifted in our unlikely friendship the day I told him about Adelaide and Sarah. We spent the next two days drinking wine and lying in bed. And it wasn’t only the intimacy or the way he makes me feel when we’re physical. It was the way he held me through the night, and the long hours we spent talking. About everything. And nothing. He has so many stories. We laughed so hard my eyes watered, and at one point I thought I caught him singing a few lines from Thunderstruck as it played in my head after he’d fucked me.

  And it hasn’t changed in the two weeks since we got back, although he was up when I finally left his bed this morning, working out the kinks in one of his tricks. It almost surprises me how easy he makes it to be with him.

  Smirking, I toy with the pie on my plate, dragging a spoonful through the whipped cream beside it.

  “What are you smiling at?” Chelsea’s green-eyed gaze misses nothing, her mouth turning up in one corner as they twinkle. Mia gives a little burp as Chelsea lifts her up to her shoulder.

  “Am I? I didn’t realize I was.” I pop a mouthful of pie in my mouth, chewing to give me time to come up with a non-Rush related reason. “I guess I like spending time with you guys.”

  “So it’s not the sexy single Hadley brother?” Gem laughs.

  “Are you allowed to say that?” I feign shock.

  “Sure.” Chelsea shrugs. “I mean no one could say he’s not. They got hit with the sexy stick, the whole lot of them. And Rush is definitely not without charm.”

  “What are we talking about?” Mace sneaks up on us and bends over Chelsea’s shoulder to kiss her cheek before pulling a chair up and taking his daughter. His blue eyes full of adoration, he pays little attention to us, but if I didn’t feel awkward talking about Rush with the girls, I certainly do with his brother here. “I think it’s just, I’m enjoying spending time with all of you. You’ve all been so welcoming.”

  “And the article is going well?” Gem asks, setting aside her tablet and the subject of Rush.

  “It is.” I don’t know why, but the more time I spend with Rush the less I find to dislike about him. And I’m not sure that’s a good thing, because it’s so hard to be objective about the article I’m writing. The interview I’m not even sure the world truly deserves.

  He’s such a private person really, and his family are so sweet, they don’t need any added exposure than what they already have from Claire’s days as the face of a charity dedicated to children, and Tommy’s time as a pro fighter, or the fact that, and I would have never guessed if she hadn’t told me, Gem’s an heiress for some confectionary corporation.

  Not that they mind my writing about them. They’ve been pretty transparent, but all of them seem to work to keep the media out of their lives. And here I am, trying to make myself a name based on the information I extract from them. I’m not sure this is who I want to be anymore. And the fact I only have three more weeks here? I’m surprisingly torn about leaving. My heart aches to get home to Sarah and find a way to be the guardian she needs, but this place, these people, not seeing Rush anymore brings me down. “It’s making me rethink my career choices.”

  “Oh no. Why?” Gem asks.

  I inhale, holding it for a second before pushing air out through my mouth. “Because I’m not sure the world needs to snoop into your lives, into Rush’s life. If it was me…”

  Chelsea nods. “You wouldn’t want some stranger writing about your life like they know you intimately. You wouldn’t want them running their mouths about your sister, or that beautiful baby of yours.”

  “W-what?” I choke on a mouthful of coffee. “How do you know that? Did Rush tell you?” The idea of him telling them about me, about what we’ve been doing is mortifying. Which is why I’m almost certain that this dream of mine to be a journalist might not be who I want to be. I just don’t know what I am supposed to want anymore.

  “She stalk-booked you the minute she met you.” Mace laughs. “You might want to tighten your Facebook privacy settings.”

  Why is the fact that Rush didn’t tell them slightly bothersome? It’s not as if I actually want them to know we’ve been messing around. The rest of it, about my sister and Sarah, doesn’t trouble me so much. It’s not something I set out to hide. There simply wasn’t any need to talk about it.

  “Rush can be a pain in the ass.” She shrugs. “But he’s family, and we protect our own.”

  “I wish I was more like you,” I admit. “I mean like the collective you. Sarah’s my world now, but I’m struggling to find my feet. I didn’t expect to be taking care of a baby at this point in my life. I didn’t plan for it, and I had so much I wanted to do. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to have my own goals and be what she needs. How do you all have your lives so together?”

 
Apparently they all find my question amusing, because they glance at each other, smirking, before Mace says, “Might want to ask a different question, like what the hell do I need in my life to actually be happy.”

  ***

  What do I need to make me happy? The thought keeps rolling around in my brain after we finish up at the café and go our separate ways until this evening. I’m not sure I know anymore.

  I used to believe having a career in something that fascinated me would make me happy. But I can’t say I enjoy it at all. And that leaves me feeling a little lost. But, I have my family, right? And plenty of time to figure it out —after I work out whether I’ll quit Godiva before or after I hand in the article of Rush. Something I should probably ask his opinion on before I make any decisions, since the deal we made hinges on this interview he offered me. I don’t want him to feel like I’ve wasted his time and money if I don’t go ahead with it. Besides, I feel like I might be letting him down if I decide not to publish it.

  Standing in the kitchen, I watch Rush muttering to himself. His hands are linked behind his head as he paces the middle of a raised square slab of concrete situated on one side of the yard. A pair of tight jeans hug his muscular lower half, his upper body glistens with sweat. There’s something so compelling about his presence, so potent to the way he prowls any stage, whether a stadium crammed with people, or his makeshift one here that makes it impossible not to admire him.

  But he’s been out there since early this morning, working on one illusion or another. I doubt he’s taken a break, so I fix coffee and a sandwich and head out to see him. Setting down the cups on a wrought iron table, I lean against the stone wall that surrounds the small patch of garden abutting the deck and watch him in action.

  It’s rather absorbing the way he gets lost in his head. Not like me, who tends to freak out in the jumble of my own brain, but with a calmness that has his actions more loose and relaxed.

  When he stops he catches me staring. A slow easy grin spreads across his face. “How long have you been watching me, sweet cheeks?”

  “Not long enough to see any of your new tricks. I just got back from lunch with Chels and Gem.” Picking up his cup and the food I made, I make my way to the edge of the slab. “Made you something. Have you even stopped today?”

  “No. I’ve been in the zone.” He steps off the mock stage, his fingers lingering on mine for a little as he takes his cup. “I sort of forget about the real world when I’m working.”

  “I could see that. You get lost in your passion?”

  “I do.” Taking a seat on the rough concrete, he grasps my hand and tugs me down beside him before stealing one half of the sandwich. “So what did you get up to with the girls? Tell me what I missed.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.” He grimaces, his mouth full. “You look like someone stole the air out of you.”

  Putting down his already empty cup, he pushes the hair away from my face. The pads of his fingers are slightly rough on my skin, but the sensation is a flutter of sweetness. No, he isn’t anything like I thought he would be when I first met him. He surprises me more often than not.

  “If my family are being assholes, you need to tell me.” His hand lingers while he contemplates my face. Then he drops it to his knee, his jaw sharpening. “Did someone say something about the interview. Is that what this is?”

  “No. I mean yes, it was about the interview.” I shrug. “You’ve never done one before. Why did you decide to do one now? Why me?”

  “I don’t do them because I like my life private. I compartmentalize things. The magician, the man, the guy you’re sleeping with. And I don’t like the idea of crossing those barriers for the media. It’s not necessary. It doesn’t do anything for the part of me that people want to see.”

  Getting up, he strides across the concrete. I’ve almost gotten used to the nervous energy that comes when he’s uncomfortable with something. To the point that I can tell by his gait whether he’s weighing up his words. “And you, well you fascinated me, presented me with a challenge, and solved a problem for me just being you. Probably not a great reason to give up an interview, or drag you half-way across the world.” Sucking in his lip he makes a whistling sound. “But that’s all I’ve got. Don’t worry, I’m not going to renege on my word.”

  I clamber up and pad toward him. “I’m not worried.”

  “So which one of my siblings said something?” He traces the line of my shoulder and half way down before gripping my arm. “What did they say to you?”

  I squint a little, taking in the scowl he’s levelling at me, but really at some imaginary slight from his family he feels the need to protect me from. My heart beats a little off-kilter, a little warmer than normal. The way it has been around him recently. “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t what they said to me. It’s just making me think.”

  This close to him, with his head tilted to mine, it’s hard not to get swallowed up by the way he stares at me. “I don’t like to see you sad.”

  “I’m not.” I play it off, as though the idea of having no idea who I am anymore doesn’t bother me. “Although I could use a distraction. How about you show me what you’re working on?”

  “All right.” One corner of his mouth goes up, and then the other as his violet eyes brighten. I can feel the energy vibrating off him. He prowls his makeshift stage, murmuring to himself. Then he stops abruptly and marches back to take both my hands and pull me in to the middle. “Close your eyes.”

  Shutting them, I wait for him to tell me when I can open them. I tap my toes, anticipation making me antsy. He doesn’t let go of me, doesn’t tell me to open my eyes. His hands are warm and strong around my own. Leisurely, he scrapes one up my wrist, my arm, my shoulder to the back of my head. All my other senses come alive without sight. His touch sears my skin as he shifts closer. His breath is the only thing I hear while he brings his face close to mine. The smell of sweat, and his own male scent makes my mouth water, and when he covers my lips with his I can taste him.

  But it’s the things I don’t see, the things I imagine, that blow my mind. Slipping his tongue between my lips, he tilts my head back. Bursts of light, fireworks explode behind my eyelids. They’re so vivid that I can hear the popping and fizzing of them going off around us.

  Every cell in my body is alive with the magic he’s weaving with his lips, and his tongue, and his hands. My knees wobble, my pulse races, and I whimper into him. If he were anybody else this thing between us might mean something.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “Oh.” Those fireworks weren’t in my head. Bright flashes of blue, yellow, and red sparkle around us as he bends me backwards to kiss me again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rush

  She melds to me. Her fingers twine in the hair at the nape of my neck, her leg climbs the outside of mine while I linger over those lips that have fascinated me from the beginning. She’s a taste I never seem to get enough of. Not yet anyway.

  But soon.

  The fireworks at the edge of the stage and hanging at certain points in the yard fizzle out as I pull us both upright. God, she’s something. My little nun. Her mouth open and panting. Eyes as big as the moon while she clings to me. So fucking sweet and sexy.

  I could fall into her. Get lost in it. Be everything. I feel like with her I’m only steps away from that peak I’ve always dreamed of. This could be as good as it gets.

  “That wasn’t a trick,” she says.

  Is her whole body shaking? Or is that me? The more time I spend with her the harder she affects me. “Pyrotechnics display. Looking at introducing new visual stimuli.”

  “It’s pretty.”

  Yes. She is so damn pretty. And the way she keeps staring at me… Is it her pulse I can feel at the tips of my fingers, or mine? “They looked okay. I’m going to work on the setup some more with my road manager.”

  “It’s going to be amazing.” She smiles. “Yo
u won’t settle for less.”

  “No, I won’t.” I stumble back a step. These past few weeks have been different for me. Spending time with Maxi, getting close to her. It’s not what I do. I don’t curl myself around a girl when I sleep. I don’t go to any length to make them smile. This wasn’t an extravagant waste since I was going to test the fireworks anyway, but kissing her under them? Catching myself up in her, my heart feeling like it might explode?

  Her hands slide away as I let go of her, my jaw clamping tight at the same time my chest does. I won’t settle for some girl who looks at me like I’m, what? A god? A man who could be her everything? I can find that anywhere, anytime, with anyone. I won’t settle for one when I can have thousands of people looking at me like that. There’s always a better high, another peak around the corner, and that’s all she is. I’ve been clear about that from the start. She knows where she stands with me. “I won’t ever settle for less than perfection.”

  “No one would expect you to.” She ticks her head to the side, and I’m hoping she understands what I don’t say as much as what I do. There’s nothing between us but a distraction.

  “You should go get ready for tonight’s fun and festivities.” I turn my back on her and get my phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to call my manager.”

  “Rush?”

  Ignoring her, I march to the furthest corner of the rough concrete. Best to make it clear that our time together is ending. That I’m not going to change my goals.

  From my peripheral vision, I watch her stride across the yard and inside. Just as I told her to, exactly as I wanted her to. Without speaking another word that might tempt me, that might suggest she’s forgotten this is only fun.

  Which is perfect.

  So why does it feel like I’m standing alone on stage as the last light flickers?